Saturday, September 10, 2016

I can still remember the exact moment that I heard an airplane had "crashed into a building". It was a regular morning for me. I was driving to work listening to what was at the time, a really funny radio program. It's funny what we remember whenever a tragic event occurs. I remember that it was a particular beautiful and sunny day in Houston. You could tell that fall was coming with the light crispy air. I was one block from my office building when the on air personality said something that didn't sound right to me. He said something along the lines of "This just in from the AP wire, it seems a plane has crashed into a skyscraper in New York" he paused and then said, "Oh my god!" and then cut away to a commercial. I wondered what had happened and continued on my way to the office. I remember walking in to the office and found a few of my coworkers huddled together watching the small black and white tv we kept in the kitchen. I guess they had brought it down here. And there, I watched as the second plane hit the other tower. I stood there in disbelief and to be honest, it took a moment or two for my brain to register what exactly had happened. Some of my coworkers started crying. I just asking what the hell had just happened. You see, I still hoped this was some horrible, horrible prank. Only it wasn't.

We remained glued to the tv, as other employees came in to watch with us. When the towers fell, I cried. There were people in those buildings. Innocent lives. I felt sick to my stomach. The managing partner of the firm told us we could go home if we wanted to. I stuck around for a few hours but then left. I was useless at work. And back then, there was not that "instant" social media capacity. So there was no Facebook to post to. No Instagram. No Twitter to tweet. We relied on the telephone -the landline kind. And of course, our television and radio.

Driving home that mid morning was surreal. I worked downtown where the streets were always filled with people bustling to their destination and traffic galore, sounds of machinery from construction often heard. But as I drove away, downtown was eerily quiet and empty. As I drove past Memorial Park -which is lined along the streets leading up to 610 highway, I noticed how there was no one running or walking. That was unheard of in these parts. But that day, there was no one. Another thing I noticed was there were no birds flying overhead. Normally, they were chirping away and you could see them flying freely like always. But not that day. I don't know if that had anything do with what happened but I just found it odd.

When I finally got home I sat in front of the tv for hours. Watching what had unfolded early that morning And you know, even after I saw people jumping from the buildings, even then I hoped they could be saved. Even then...

Fifteen years ago, America as we knew it, died. And I find it oh so ironic that here we are fifteen years later, and we're as lost as can be. And that makes me so sad.

I often think of the children that lost their mother or father or grandparents or siblings that day. Or of the children that never got to meet them. I think of all of those firefighters and first responders that perished while trying to save lives. Such a waste of life. Horrible that it was cut short. And the spouses that were left behind, the parents...so many brave men and women lost, because of cowardly acts from the monsters that drew blood from our beloved country.

On this fifteenth anniversary that tomorrow will bring, I will take a moment, pray for the lives lost, the loved ones left behind and the loved ones that never met their parents. And I will pray for our country. Broken as we are, we are still the United States and I am proud to be an American.

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

You just never know what going to lunch with coworkers will teach you I tell ya! It was a particularly slow day at the office and the sun was shinning, "Wanna go to lunch?" was music to my ears and so I excitedly said yes. Any excuse to get me out of the office was always a good thing -for me anyway. So there we went, my two co-workers and I to decompress from the mundane "back to work, feels like Monday but it's not, blues" That's what I hate about being off on a Monday, coming back to work is a bitch. But I digress. We went to a local spot that served the BEST burgers in the world! Ok, ok, maybe not in the "world" but certainly in the area of town we were in. Heh. Once settled in, we began our non-chalant gab fest. "How was your holiday weekend?" "What'd you do?" "Did you go shopping yesterday with all the other crazy people?" You know, questions like that. Anyway, somehow or another, I can't remember exactly why we started talking about this but we did. Talk went from molding teeth to molding penises. (is that even plural???) and then went to classes for learning how to give blow jobs -the right way. Um, I promise you if you ask any male friend of mine, they will tell you that any way is the right way. Fellas amiright? My co-worker, we'll call her Lucy, proceeded to enrich our intellect by revealing to us that there is indeed a need in this world to learn how to give head, suck cock, eh you know what I mean. Sally, my other coworker and I literally had our mouths open as Lucy told us that she had taken such a class once. It was held in a regular classroom at a local community college. I interrupted her story to ask if there were credits earned towards a degree. She scoffed at me but I was serious. Lucy is very animated when she speaks, she uses her hands a lot and her eyes. She told us that it was a class full of women and one man. Yes. A. Man. You see, her teacher taught an equal opportunity class. Alright I'll get on with it, I know you are at the edge of your chair/bed/floor. So the class was held once a week for 30 minutes for 4 weeks. Her first day she said, was a bit awkward. There was a lot of giggling and blushing and avoiding eyes amongst the masses. The teacher was gifted I suppose in the art of um, giving blow jobs. Imagine interviewing for that position er, job. There were no text books just visual aids (think cocks in all sizes from small, medium, large to extra large to extra-extra large) Now, you were required to take your own "aide" to practice on and of course the visual aides for that that teacher brought in were just for show. No touching, I mean sucking. Lucy's take on this whole class was rather comical. She said that on the first day besides getting acquainted with each other and the visuals, they also got to speak aloud if they wanted to, about why they felt they needed a class in the first place. Now some of the answers were predictable "Because I wanna please my man" and yet other answers were more insightful "I want to learn to enjoy it so my partner will enjoy it" -Pretty sure your partner is enjoying it -just saying! Tips to giving a good blow job consisted of "jawsersizing" get it? instead of exercising? Just making sure you understand. Ok, so opening and closing your jaw on the daily was one tip, another one was to treat the cock as if it were a real person. Uh, yeah that's what Lucy said. Well, that's what the teach said. Like a real person. As opposed to a fake person? Or a fake thing? The teacher meant that we ladies had to get comfortable with the penis person because that would help us to relax and enjoy it. She gave homework. Lucy told of having to suck on lollipops of various sizes. Sucking the lollipop. .licking it, kissing it. Seriously. That's what she said. Oh and as your sizes in lollipops went up your jaws were getting their sersize. Then came the licking. According to the teacher, there is an art to licking. Now that, I agree with. And that's all I'm saying about that. Moving on. The class was told to learn to be comfortable with who they were and that if they mastered the art of giving a good blow job, the world was their oyster. Ok so maybe she didn't say the last part. You know I'm dramatic. It's funny how quickly an hour goes by when you're having so much fun. We ended our lunch laughing hysterically and blushing no doubt. Well, at least me. I blush at everything. And yes more was said at that table that had us acting like hormonal teenagers but some things are better left unsaid and to the imagination. I'm not all too sure that taking such a class is necessary. I mean, in the kitchen alone there are tons of "aides" you can use or? Be old fashioned and use the real thing. After all, practice makes perfect.

About Me

Welcome to my blog! Here you will find a little of everything. Love, loss, anger issues, chaos! My life as I know it and then some! But I will also showcase my writing. It's my first love. Hopefully, my words can entice you to come back for more!
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